


Everybody Loves Somebody

by Thewriterinmalfoy



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Phanfiction, Slow Dancing, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 03:49:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11283165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thewriterinmalfoy/pseuds/Thewriterinmalfoy
Summary: It was time, and Phil knew exactly how to propose to Dan- with the song he's kept close to him for years.





	Everybody Loves Somebody

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello! I know you guys are probably all screaming at me to UPDATE THE FIC ALREADY, but if I told you I'd been sitting on this fic for a year you'd understand (right?). Whelp, this idea has been requested to me by a lovely tumblr user who has not given me any shit for taking so long to write something (especially something so short) and while writing I've fallen in love with the lyrics of this song. Go check out Everybody Loves Somebody by Dean Martin if you wanna have an expanded idea of what Phil talks about.

_Everybody loves somebody sometime_  
Everybody falls in love somehow  
Something in your kiss just told me  
That sometime is now

 

It wasn’t anything spectacular or over the top. They stood in the center of the room, just feet away from where they had been earlier, swaying back and forth to the song Phil had so desperately wanted to show Dan. It wasn’t unlike Phil to get overly excited about something, and nor was it unlike him to want to show Dan, but Phil had been holding onto this song for a long while.

 It was an old song, from the 1940s, and yet somehow Phil managed to hear it. He remembers exactly when he’d heard it too- he remembers the first time he’d known he loved Dan. He was in a coffee shop of all places (how cliché?) and he was people-watching, a thing he did to calm down and think. He was sat at a booth alone, a pen in his hand and a journal on the table. That journal only came with him to the shop, and was home to many of his most interesting people-watching notions.

 It also happened to document the song that played above his head. There was a smudge of ink on that page, small enough to be a teardrop, next to the note Phil had made the moment he wrote down the name of the song: _I will play this song when I propose to Dan Howell._ Phil’s scratchy pen and that ink-stained page had been bookmarked (in his head and in reality) for a very long time.

 It was only when Phil went back through his journal and saw the entry for a second time that he realized what he wrote really meant and why it was so important. He spent a whole week listening to only that song, memorizing the words. Because one day, he’d be singing them to the love of his life, making his love last a life[ _time_ ].

 

_Everybody finds somebody someplace_  
There's no telling where love may appear  
Something in my heart keeps saying  
My someplace is here

 

Right here. Where Phil was now crying again, his forehead laying gently upon Dan’s shoulder. He let the music carry them away, mouthing the words as it played on. Without moving away from Dan’s body, Phil looked up, the words now rolling off of his tongue as he tasted the familiar flavor of salt and water. Moving one hand from Dan’s back to brush the curls from his face, and smiling through the sound. Dan’s eyes were wet and tears were spilling over to land on his cheek, some pooling at his dimple before making their way down to Dan’s shirt.

 Dan was smiling too, all watery and full of emotion, one unable to be explained in words, and one only the two of them shared- understood. He was beautiful and even now, after so many years with each other, he still made Something within Phil immediately weightless and airy and it was humming with longing so deep he could physically feel his heart being pulled toward Dan’s.

 They were slow dancing, waltzing around in the tiny open space in the middle of the room- in their _home_. His love appeared here, with Dan, where his home really was, and where he wanted his home to _always be_. That’s why this song was so important and why he had to make sure Dan really listened to the words.

 So Phil began to whisper them in Dan’s ear as they spun around and around. With shaky breaths and barely-there words the lyrics floated in the air between them, letting them fully sink into Dan.

 

_If I had it in my power_  
I'd arrange for every girl to have you charms  
Then every minute, every hour  
Everybody would find what I found in your arms

 

And yeah, Dan wasn’t a girl. But what did it matter? It still made sense. Phil did wish that everyone could feel the same way he did about Dan. He wished everyone could have their own Dan to love.

 Phil kept turning them around, whispers hanging heavy in his heart and the thought of what he was about to do never seemed so real. So perfect. He was ready, oh so ready, to begin the rest of his life with that same feeling he felt every time in Dan’s arms. He wanted the waking up with his face against Dan’s chest, he wanted the early morning coffee runs because they forgot to get some while they were out, and the staying up late in the night trying to calm one of them down from _whateveritwasthatmadethemhaveapanicattack_ , the occasional fights about stupid things that neither of them will remember in the morning. He wanted all of it, so bad, and he wanted it all with the man who’s arms he was still in.

 Phil recited the next lines of the song over and over again, and relished in how true they were, stopping his whispers and taking deep, slow breaths, trying to grab a small hold on reality so he could justfuckingdoit. And he hated to have to, but he pulled away from Dan as the words were being sung, echoing through Phil’s ears and the room.

 

_Everybody loves somebody sometime_  
And though my dreams were overdue  
Your love made it all worth waiting  
For someone like you

 

Before he’d even realized he was doing it, Phil was pulling a neatly folded (yet still very crumpled) piece of paper from his back pocket and gently opening up Dan’s hand. He hadn’t planned this part, but he felt like he needed to do it. He reached back into his pocket as he slowly bent down, one knee on the ground, and pulled out a blue velvet box.

 His mind was somewhere else, but it was the clearest Phil had ever been able to think at the same time, as the last two versus of the song played again and Phil sat there in that position. He could barely see, his eyes were so watery, but he knew Dan’s tears were there all the same. The box felt heavy in his hand, but he wanted to do this right, he wanted to make sure he told Dan exactly why he was doing this, this way.

 The blue velvet heated up quickly against his fingertips and (out of nervousness or to keep his fingers cool, he didn’t know) Phil turned the box over and over through his hands, just _waiting_ for the song to end. When it finally did, they were both a mess, but Phil was determined.

 “When I hear this song, I think of you. I think of how every line seems to burn you even more into my being, and how I never want the fire to go away. I think of how my place is your arms, and how every time you hold me, I wish that everyone in the whole world could feel how I felt right then. I think of how, the very first time I’d heard this song, I cried, because I knew I loved you then and I love you now and I will love you forever and ever and ever if you’d let me. I think of how I knew then, that this was going to be how I would propose to you, and this song had to be playing for us, because that’s all it could be.”

 I think about how I would never have been able to live my life without you. Which is why, Daniel Howell, I am asking you to do me the honor of marrying me, because I never want to know what life is like without you by my side.”

 Dan was already bent down on both knees by the time Phil finished, his hands aimlessly wiping tears off of both of their faces- to no avail. The ring itself was currently no matter for either of them, being (gently) discarded on the floor beside them as (of course) Dan’s weight gives in and Phil’s knee gives out and they end up on the floor, cradling each other and crying. Their heads pressed together, and the taste of salt on their lips, they laugh through the elation and intensity of the whole thing, just before Dan can close the gap between them. Every kiss was on a new spot upon Phil’s face a frantic, “yes,” muttered after each one until all Phil herd was, “yesyesyesyesyes.”

 They were ready, Phil thought, grabbing for the ring, which was _somewhere_ on the floor. They were ready to take on the world together. But he was wrong, and he said out lout to Dan as he slid the cold metal along Dan’s finger, “We’re ready to make our own world, our own place.”


End file.
